


after may.

by itsmccomplicated



Category: Grey's Anatomy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Complete, F/M, Fluff, Poetry, i've never posted a fic before wish me luck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:09:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 2,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23191423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsmccomplicated/pseuds/itsmccomplicated
Summary: he had forgotten what being in love felt like until she was back in his bed.(they survived. they never got on the plane.)
Relationships: Lexie Grey/Mark Sloan
Comments: 4
Kudos: 80





	1. m. june 1 2012

_M._

he had forgotten what being in love felt like until she was back in his bed. 

she falls asleep, and he watches her, the rise and fall of her chest, the movement of her feet every couple of minutes, and he listens to the small noises she makes every once and a while. 

he always thought she was exquisite.

this is not afterglow, he knows.

he just sees her like this.

his fingers trace patterns along the bare skin of her back, and she giggles in her sleep. 

a kiss on her forehead causes her to stir, but she doesn't quite wake up.

she was definitely not sleeping half an hour ago, he thinks to himself, dirty images accompanied by a mischievous smirk. dirty images of smooth legs around his waist and soft moans against his neck.

everything about her is beautiful.

he had forgotten what being in love felt like until she was back in his bed.


	2. l. june 1 2012

_L_.

she thought she had known love other than him, but she was wrong.

waking up, it took her a moment. to realize this wasn't just a dream. not another desperate cry of escapism. she was back with him, asleep on his arm.

there he was, breathing softly in sleep. the rise of his chest and the flutter of his eyelashes and the beat of his heart was all real.

the man who had taught her love. the only one she had ever loved. 

she placed a careful kiss on his lips.

"i love you," she whispered. "so much."

beside him, wrapped together in soft sheets, she understood what it was she had been waiting for.

she thought she had known love other than him, but she was wrong.


	3. m. october 2 2012

_M_.

there were a few things that had scared him before.

when he was ten years old and his mom had just died, he developed a fear of the dark. sure, he would leave all the lights on before, when he was three feet tall and alone in the house, but this was different. a pressing, strangling fear that sat down on his chest when he tried to go to sleep. 

even as a grown man, he left the light on in the bathroom when he went to bed.

unless he had lexie. 

with her, he could sleep.

if he could close his eyes in a pitch black bedroom, he could ask a question.

if he could start a relationship and stay in it, he could ask a question.

if he could train a surgeon and not be left disappointed, he could ask a question.

if he could revive a friendship with derek that was at one point all but dead, he could ask a question.

there were a few things that had scared him before.


	4. l. november 2 2012

_L_.

the world looked different to her now.

that which was once mundane was now lifted, alive.

that which had once seemed unbearable was now effortless in comparison.

nothing much had changed. there was just a ring on her finger, a fiancé in her bed every night, and a hefty sum of spent money in their future. but everything felt foreign. a _good_ foreign. 

the line at the coffee cart wasn't as long. the leaves changing colours on the trees were brighter orange than they'd ever been. the cold wind off the ocean left her less frozen.

she would be running around at work, unable to catch a break, in way over her head, but she would remember the promise he’d made to her, and a sense of security took hold of all that was wrong.

she'd have forgotten that morning to take the pill which kept her from jumping when someone came up behind her, and would feel like curling up and hiding in a supply closet or somewhere even smaller. but she'd always remember, and she'd always be fine.

she felt safe. she felt truly loved.

the world looked different to her now.


	5. m. may 25 2013

_M_.

it was finally his turn.

a year ago, he was sure he would never get the chance.

the chance to be happy. the chance to be married to the love of his life. the chance to have _everything_ he'd always wanted.

but the time was here.

it had all led up to this.

being her teacher.

being her _teacher_. 

the time he'd accidentally proposed.

the time he did it for real.

the time it worked.

losing her two times.

winning her over three.

it was finally his turn.


	6. l. may 25 2013

_L_.

she wasn't afraid anymore.

before she nearly lost it all, it had seemed like such a big deal.

to get married. to be grown. to live the rest of your life with the same person.

but now, with the ring on her finger, standing in a white dress, it seems safe.

it's something that she wants.

it's a leap and she's ready to jump.

he has her, and she has him.

she wasn't afraid anymore. 


	7. m. may 26 2013

_M_.

he can't believe his luck.

waking up next to her, the morning after their wedding, he feels like he must be in heaven.

he'd made it up, of course. none of it could be real.

someone so perfect, who he'd had to fight so hard for, was with him forever. she wanted him by her side for as long as he could be.

when she wakes up, he is staring at her, and she laughs.

leaning down to kiss her, he whispers, "good morning, mrs. grey-sloan."

she groans and rolls over into his arms. "it's _dr_.," she drowsily replies.

he can't believe his luck.


	8. l. july 26 2013

_L._

he makes her happy in ways she never thought possible.

growing up, the dream of domestic bliss had always come second to the dream of ivy-covered walls and medical degrees and asking for ten blades and saving lives. it was her assumption that you had to choose; you could have anything you wanted, as long as you sacrificed everything else for it. 

she knows now, that's not true.

she has a husband who makes her pancakes in the morning, bananas instead of eggs because even though she insists it's okay in small quantities, he doesn't like taking chances.

she has a husband who climbs in the bathtub with her and sings in her ear, love songs like they're in a romantic scene from some cheesy movie.

she has a husband who waits for her when their shifts end an hour apart, only because he likes walking across the street with her. (they always race to press the button at the crosswalk).

she has a husband who makes her feel alive and happy and right where she belongs, when she always thought marriage meant changing forever.

she has a husband who, when she crawls into bed after a long day at work, unable to even peel off her new dark blue scrubs, cradles her in his arms and tells her, "you're an amazing doctor, and i love you."

he makes her happy in ways she never thought possible.


	9. m. november 29 2013

_M_.

mark is older, and he feels it. 

he is forty-five.

he is a newlywed, but his hair is grey, and he feels his age in his bones as he watches his wife.

she is twenty-nine.

twenty-nine and quite literally full of life, _their_ first child growing inside of her, her belly swollen and round, her eyes wide and sparkling as she sees the world in a way he doesn't quite understand. because compared to him, she is young and awe-stricken, and he is not.

he has two daughters. well, one, who's in his life. well, three, since he supposes that this baby is going to be a girl, too. he would never admit it, but he has come to enjoy pink nursery walls and television programs about little ponies. he doesn't say he wants a little girl, though. because he doesn't. he just wants a baby. he just wants lexie grey-sloan's baby. and he just wants lexie grey-sloan's baby to be healthy and happy.

due in april. he will still be only forty-five, but you can't _really_ put the word only in front of that number. not when you're a brand new father to someone who will probably never say it, but will need you for much longer than the time you have left to devote to them. 

mark everett sloan, born on a thursday, the second of may, nineteen sixty-eight. he wonders where the time has gone and realizes that he waited much too long to have what he has now with his little grey. she stirs in and out of sleep, curled up against his chest, and all he can do is watch the clock on the wall and remember that he is running out of time, rolling down the hill having already reached the top.

mark is older, and he feels it. 


	10. l. november 29 2013

_L_.

they call her a little girl, and they're not wrong. 

she is little (relatively speaking, at least) and she is a girl.

she doesn't care much for walking down the street hand in hand, because people _look_ at her. she is the only woman who he calls his own, the only one in his bed at night, and the only one who is reminded every day that he sees the stars when he looks at her, but she is the other woman in the minds of strangers when she is seen out with the boy who she loves, and who just so happens to be a bit older than she is.

she's afraid, too.

she is afraid when she realizes she's pregnant, and is afraid when her husband tells her that now he has everything and his world is complete. and that world revolves around her and the little life inside her, which sucks up all of her energy and drives her to order pizza at two in the morning, when he is on-call and she is home alone.

when she's with them, she shares with her stepdaughter, who scares her as well.

sofia scares her because she is all too afraid of her _real_ mothers and afraid of messing her up and afraid of being rejected by a two year old in pigtails, who she knows has enough love for everyone in the whole, wide world. being a mother is a delicate practice. 

she fears fucking up at work the most, because there, she balances on a tightrope of life and death. her brother-in-law is her mentor, and he watches over her with eyes all-knowing as she cuts through the protective casing of the skull. into the part of the body that holds the soul of the person who possesses it. she hates how she thinks it better when a patient dies, rather than loses themselves after waking up. 

but either way, it's her fault.

either way, she has something to be truly scared of when her patient's brain hits the open air and the fate of their world rests on her shoulders.

she could hardly have picked a stranger, more difficult life for herself. 

she has everything she'd spent her three decades longing for. 

she is afraid. 

they call her a little girl, and they're not wrong.


	11. m. april 4 2014

_M_.

he doesn't know how long it's been.

he knows that she is in pain, and he wishes he could shoulder it with her. but he can't. all he can do is let her hold his hand, try not to let it show on his face how much he hates the sound of her agonized cries, and tell her she's doing a great job. 

a c-section, addison montgomery tells him - after taking him into the hallway and handing him a black coffee - is indicated in this situation, but his wife keeps refusing. and there's no talking sense into her because she is, after all, a labouring mom. 

"lexie," he whispers, as she leans against his shoulder in between contractions. "please listen to me, lex. you know that we have a point, baby, you know." 

"no," she snaps. lists the dozens of complications she's taken to memory.

another loud cry, and he winces. 

he wasn't sure if she would make it through without surrendering to the release of pain medication and major surgery, but she does, and they have a little boy. 

they have a little boy with curly blond hair and green eyes, which was only a two percent chance, the eyes, she tells him, as the baby sleeps. 

he holds his son for the first time and has never felt more at peace with the world. 

he won't sleep for the next two years, but he knows it's worth it. nothing is more worth it than the baby boy in his arms.

later in the day, lexie wakes up from a nap, and reaches out. "i want to see my baby," she tells him. she's already such a loving mother; he can see it in the way she looks at her son.

his arms are just a little sore, from the weight of nine pounds and two ounces. they could use a break, but as he places his son in the arms of his wife he's already missing him.

every second with their baby boy has been perfect.

he doesn't know how long it's been. 


	12. l. april 4 2014

_L_.

  


she isn't alright. (it hurts _way_ more than they told her it would. and it's _way_ scarier.)

she doesn't talk.

not to the doctors, other than to tell them that her pain is a six, seven, an eight out of ten.

not (well, barely) to her brother or her sister, who massage her back and keep occupied the other one she doesn't talk to, who happens to be the one who got her into this mess in the first place. 

_what if it was you who had to do this, mark,_ she thinks, bearing the brunt of a contraction. 

__she's practically dissociated by the time addison reaches up and puts a hand on her shoulder. "lexie," she says, "your baby's crowning. do you want to see?"

she nods, and addison holds a mirror and says, "just a bit longer, lexie, you can do this."

"i need to push," she cries. "i need to-"

"that's okay. you can do it."

lexie's eyes well with tears. her baby has blond hair. "fuck, it's a little mark," she chokes out, laughter erupting from those in the room. mark is stroking her hair and addison is trying to encourage her and meredith is squeezing her hand. they can hear derek outside, talking to an excited callie.

one push. two pushes. three pushes. "here he is!" addison announces. mark is crying.

"good girl, lexie." he smiles at his wife's doctor, whose eyes are also watering. 

four. five. six. 

"there we go, honey. there we go. you're all done. here he is."

she reaches down instinctively, and for the first time she holds her baby, the little boy she's been thinking about for nine months. her own flesh and blood, hers and mark's, a new life who she carried around for nearly a year, loving before she even met him.

she is suddenly chilled, the warmth which was within her having left her body, and her own tears flow freely down her face.

a few hours later, she wakes up from a nap, and mark hands her their son who she's already grown to need more than the air she breathes. their little boy wraps his hand around her finger, and she watches him, feeling the joy her mother told her she would, rocking her own child back and forth.

she absorbs every inch of him.

she isn't alright. (she's perfect.)


End file.
